Ivy POV:
The ballroom of the Grandeur Hotel smelled of expensive perfume, roasted meat, and the underlying musk of a hundred wolves.
*I didn't sneak in. I walked right down the center of the aisle.*
The chatter in the room died down, wave by wave, as people noticed me.
Donnell Dillard, my father and the Alpha of this failing pack, stood near the buffet. He dropped his wine glass. It shattered, red liquid staining the white carpet like blood.
"Ivy?" he whispered.
The guests-wolves from neighboring packs, potential investors-began to whisper.
"Isn't that the daughter who died?"
"Look at her... she's radiant."
"Is that... Royal blue?"
Donnell marched over, his face purple with rage. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry with relief.
He looked at me like I was a stain on his perfectly tailored suit.
"How dare you," he hissed. "You let us mourn you. You let us bury an empty casket!"
"You didn't mourn me," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "You erased me."
"You ungrateful brat!"
A shrill voice pierced the air. Aunt Carol. She was a Beta female, cruel and ambitious, who had always hated my mother.
She stormed over, her face twisted in a snarl.
"You ruin everything!" she shrieked. "This is Ainsley's night! We are securing the investors tonight, and you show up like a ghost to shame us!"
She raised her hand.
*I saw it coming. I could have caught it. I could have snapped her wrist like a dry twig.*
*But I let it land.*
*Smack!*
Her palm connected with my cheek. The sound echoed through the silent ballroom. My head snapped to the side. I tasted blood.
*Good. Now everyone saw.*
"You are a curse!" Carol screamed. "You have no wolf! You are nothing!"
I slowly turned my head back to face her. I licked the blood from the corner of my lip.
My eyes, usually a soft brown, began to glow. Not the yellow of a Beta, or the orange of a regular wolf.
They flashed a brilliant, blinding silver-white.
*The air in the room suddenly grew heavy, charged with ozone.*
"Touch me again," I snarled, my voice layered with the growl of my wolf, "and you lose the hand."
Carol stumbled back, fear finally dawning in her eyes. "You... you're..."
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the ballroom exploded inward.
It wasn't wind. It was power.
A wave of pure, crushing Alpha Aura slammed into the room. It was heavy, suffocating, smelling of storm clouds and absolute dominance.
Every wolf in the room dropped to their knees. Their instincts forced them to bare their necks in submission. Donnell fell. Dexter fell. Even Aunt Carol collapsed, whimpering.
I was the only one left standing.
Three figures walked through the dust.
Alaric Richardson, the King.
Arnulfo Richardson, the Prince.
And in the center, radiating enough power to level the building, was Collin.
His golden eyes scanned the room, bypassing the cowering wolves until they locked onto me. He saw the red mark on my cheek.
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Collin threw his head back and let out a roar that shook the chandeliers.
"*WHO TOUCHED MY MATE?!*"
The Alpha Command slammed into the crowd, pinning them to the floor.
*I smiled.*
"Hello, husband," I said softly.
The revenge had officially begun.
*
